Wedding Bells
by arashi-enkou
Summary: Bookverse: "I was married." Glinda said. "But not to a man." ::Gelphie::


Disc: IF I OWNED WICKED, YERO WOULD STILL BE ALIVE. Sadly, he's not (well, not in the book, anyway) and in his place is an arrogant, two-dimensional jackass (-cough-Musical!Fiyero-cough-), that means I don't own Wicked. T-T

Notes: Small plot-bunny spree to get my Wicked fix while I work on _To Fix What Was Twisted._

_--_

"What is your goal in life, Glinda?" Elphaba asked quietly, watching her blonde friend gazing at the shoes in the store window. Glinda made a small noise in her throat, a small humm, as her head tilted to the side.

"Well," began Glinda. "I suppose marriage." When Glinda didn't elaborate, Elphaba's brows rose.

"That's all?" she said dissaprovingly. "Nothing else?"

"For someone like me, there isn't much choice, Elphie," said Glinda. "It's what's expected of me." She sighed gently, pulling away from the window to look up at the green woman. She smiled bitterly. "That's all I can really look forward to." She began to walk ahead, heels clacking on the sidewalk. Elphaba merely took three long strides and caught up to the blonde.

"Surely you have more hopes than that," Elphaba said, reaching for Glinda's arm. The Gillikin girl laughed in an airy way, tossed her blonde curls.

"Of course, Elphie, don't we all?" Glinda smiled and closed her eyes as Elphaba clasped her hand around her arm, trusting that the Thropp woman wouldn't steer her wrong. "I've always wanted to design," she said suddenly.

"Design what?"

"Anything. Everything." Glinda giggled. "But that's not in my future. I'm to be a wife to a banker of some sort, I'm sure, and then die a wealthy woman, with my family _generously_ written into the will, of course."

Elphaba frowned, then slid her arm around Glinda's tiny waist. Glinda's cheeks flushed, only just, before she tugged away from Elphaba's slight grip; the green woman didn't fight, merely let her small friend freedom with a deeper frown.

"Glinda," Elphaba began.

"Oh no, Elphie," Glinda bubbled. Her tone was mocking as she continued with, "you don't have to worry about me. I'm fine. I've accepted the fact, and I'll be damned if I'm just going to be swept off my feet by the first wealthy old snob that comes my way. I want at least a small amount of affection for him, else his traditional wedding proposal will be all for naught."

"Traditional?" Elphaba sounded amused.

"Yes; getting down on one knee, with a sparkling ring with an obscenely large diamond ready to slip on my finger." Glinda waved her hand. "And, of course, with lights and music and candles; all of that nonsense."

"Nonsense, is it?" The green woman smirked. "A month ago you would have been positively ecstatic about your so-called nonsense."

"Yes," Glinda agreed. "I would have. But that was _then_ and this is _now_." She slipped her arm through Elphaba's again, her smile sunny. "I'm with you in the Emerald City, and we're off to see the Wizard."

"The _wonderful _Wizard of Oz," Elphaba quipped dryly.

Glinda giggled again, and her head rested on Elphaba's arm. "My point is, Elphie," she murmured wistfully. "is that I would trade that charade of love for the real thing."

Elphaba remained silent, then blinked as she caught something out of the corner of her eye. She looked down at Glinda's head, then reached in her skirt pocket to finger a small coin that had been hidden within. She turned her thoughts over in her head, stopped, and slipped from Glinda's grip.

"Wait for me here, my sweet," Elphaba said as she saw Glinda's confused expression. "I'll be right back."

As Elphaba turned to the front of the store and to the small capsule machines, the blonde couldn't help but turn Elphaba's words over in her head.

_My sweet._

_**My **sweet._

The nickname (or perhaps a term of endearment?) made her heart flutter delightfully in her chest. Glinda reached up, placed a hand over her heart, smiling softly at the bubbly feeling.

"Well," Elphaba's voice called her back from her thoughts. The green girl's voice was...well, it wasn't its normal, firm quality, but it wasn't nervous, exactly. "while this may not be the time, nor place to get on my knees..."

Glinda heard a loud pop of plastic and Elphaba was there in front of her, a small ring grasped between the tips of her index finger and thumb. Glinda's breath caught in her throat. The thing was small and shabby, a ring of gold plastic with a fake pink heart at the top.

But Glinda had never seen anything more beautiful in her entire life.

"Marry me," Elphaba said softly, and suddenly the blonde was acutely aware of their closeness. Glinda swallowed thickly, her hands touching her lips, tears springing to her eyes.

"Elphie," she whispered, already wiping away her tears before they could run her make-up. "Oh Elphie, yes," she stammered, wrapping her arms around her friend. "Of course, yes."

The ring couldn't even fit on her finger.

--

Decades later, when Elphaba and Chuffery had died, after Glinda the Good had met with the boy called Liir, she sat in her room at the Cloister of Saint Glinda (and the irony of that hadn't gone over her blonde head). The ring, the same, pathetic looking scrap of plastic was secured around a chain on her neck, resting tenderly on her collar bone. The gold paint had long since worn off, and the pink heart had been re-glued on so many times, Glinda had lost count.

"Oh," Trism, apparently Liir's lover, said quietly as he noticed it. "What's that?"

"This old thing?" Glinda smiled as she carressed the pink heart. "It's my wedding ring."

"But," Trism looked shocked. "I thought the ring Sir Chuffery gave to you was still in the vault..."

"Silly boy," Glinda sighed. "I was married to someone else before Chuffery. The ring around my neck is my first wedding ring."

"Really now?" He must have been a sorry poor chap, Trism thought to himself. Instead he said, "Who was the lucky man to hold Glinda the Good's heart first?"

"I was married," Glinda said smartly. "But not to a man." She delighted in the shock and slight disgust on Trism's face. "And don't say a word, my boy, wouldn't want to make you a hypocrite now, would we? And, for the record," the blonde looked out the window, closing her eyes. "She was the _only _one to ever hold my heart."

--

fin

--

Notes: This is probably very bad. I've used up alot of creative juu-juu with all my other stories, so this was just a plot-bunny-turned-Gelphie. Inspired by that infamous quote Elphie says in the book:_ "I am married, just not to a man."_


End file.
